


How to become someone who will never be missed

by UMsArchive



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, BUT ALSO THE GAME IS ON, M/M, Phichit is an Amazing Friend, Viktor doesn't see the video, Yuuri takes a break for the season, ch.4 this is all madness somehow, jj somehow helps too, some technicalities involved, sorry for any confusion
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-06
Updated: 2017-01-28
Packaged: 2018-09-15 07:47:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9225479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UMsArchive/pseuds/UMsArchive
Summary: Viktor doesn't see the performance that prompted him to go to Hasetsu. Both he and Yuuri are struggling during the season, Viktor trying not to fall off the game, Yuuri being aimless and taking a break.Chance (and Phichit) brings Yuuri to the GPF, where the two meet again. Things are not going smoothly, but others (some intentionally, some not) help.





	1. No miracles

He arrivedin Hasetsu out of shape and humiliated, posters of an unrealistic alter ego looking down on him. Minako-san was there to make him feel better, managing to make it worse. She made him sign autographs and he wished everyone could just forget his very name. She used the 'Viktor clause' not realizing how much it burned him to the very core to think of how disastrous his dreams regarding Viktor have ended. He had wanted to reach Viktor's level, be regarded by him as worthy, but his idol hadn't even regarded him as serious competition. And how could he, with Yuuri lagging over 100 points behind him?

He had told people he was 'thinking about it' but he had no coach and no potential coach had reasons to be interested in him. After the Grand Prix Final, he could still tell himself 'it's not a dead end'. They kept on telling him he could pick himself up and he almost believed it. After the Nationals and dragging himself through graduation and depression, he was not so sure. 

He knew about all the weight he had gained. He knew he had to do something about it, but he had no energy and no motivation. He tried to exercise as much as he could, but he couldn't restrain from eating his mother's good food. It was one of the few pleasures he could still have in times of struggling to feel anything at all. That, and the rink.

On his first night, he went to the rink almost in shame. Yuuko had been there from the very beginning, had believed in him, and he felt as though Yuuri had let her down. He's let everyone down. 

He wondered what Viktor would've thought, seeing someone like Yuuri trying to be a copycat at the expense of Viktor's work. But he wouldn't ever see it.

Yuuri lived with his parents for a while, keeping himself busy, but not really doing much. He fell into a routine, concentrating on getting in shape, to feel like he was accomplishing something, making a sort of progress. He was helping his family around the house, too, not wanting to feel like dead weight on them either. At night, he would visit the rink when no one was there, not doing anything spectacular. He would practice jumps, copy interesting sequences from last season.

Before he knew it, the new season has started. And he was not in it. He had to make an official statement. Was he retired? Was he on a break? (more like a breakdown). He flipped a coin. Break, it was. Doing what? Commonly? He was planning to travel for a while, he guessed.

 

***

Viktor woke up the morning after the banquet with a sort of hope. He didn’t know for what. He had felt enthusiasm equal to how once felt about skating for other than his craft, last night. His thoughts went as far as to see it as a possible answer to his inquiries in Stammi vicino. Which was silly. He had created fiction that and fiction that was. There was nothing like that in the real life. Katsuki was gone without as much as a goodbye, anyway. What was he to make out of that? 

Perhaps the theme had gotten too much into his brain and now he was stuck there and imagining things, because of a stupid infatuation. So, he had been dragged out of his boredom and gloom, danced and made to laugh to exhaustion, getting back to his room stupidly giddy... So what? In real life, no amazing stories came out of lovely sceneries like these. Probably, not for Viktor, living the secluded busy life he did, anyway. 

He laughed at the silly thought of going to him (he had been fleetingly - most probably jokingly - invited after all), like romantic movies would have this go, right? But he would look like a lunatic, doing this out of the blue. ...god, why was he even contemplating that?

Soon, however, desperation buried his hope and his longing. 

Viktor was struggling. He was impatient with his work. He felt like he was losing his mind. He went as far as giving Yakov hints of a possible break. Yakov went as far as giving Viktor hints that a break would mean the end for him - he wouldn’t make it back when he’d be ready. It would be over. Did Viktor want it over? No, he didn’t. Viktor wouldn’t have anything else if this was over - of course, that was not what he told Yakov. He told him he was struggling with inspiration, instead. Yakov told him he should maybe commision something, like most skaters did. No, Viktor couldn’t give it all he had if it wasn’t his own work. He’ll figure something out.

 

He laid back in a chair, after practice, thinking. Any genuine feeling that he could convey in a choreography. But all he had left was desperation. Not even a personified one, like what he last year transcribed as ‘longing for love’ in Stammi vicino. Just pure desperation. And if he were to convey that into one of the routines, he’d still have another one to go. And since desperation was the most of what he generally had, he’d make it into the longest programme - first, he had to think of a story, something to bring his work to concrete; he started writing down possible ideas.

 

The story of an artist whose greatest piece required to be built from outside to the inside and so he locked himself in for the sake of completing his masterpiece, contemplating proudly of the final art itself he was never be able to see, but which will undoubtedly amaze everyone.

He changes his mind, not wanting to lay that plain and raw for everyone to see. Next, he contemplates choreographing Beethoven's last years, his struggle to keep writing music past the point where he could hear his own compositions. It was still too close to home, more than he was ready to admit even to himself.

Yakov kept making inquiries. Viktor kept on telling him he was still juggling with ideas, that they were there, but he couldn't decide yet. It was the truth. Quite so. But he refused to share those idea. Yakov knew him too well. He'd start being worried. 

Eventually, he found a more coded story to tell. A legend, more precisely. An architect is commissioned to project and watch over the building of a monastery. He's asked to make it the most beautiful one there was. But the land was cursed and he was forced to seal his wife - his love - in the walls of the monastery to manage its construction. His sacrifice created a building so beautiful that his commissioner left him to die on its roof, so he could never built something to out-great it. He wanted to escape, leave his own masterpiece by by attempting to build wings, but they failed him and he fell to his death’. The process, the very image he was putting together in his moves, was heartbreaking, and so he put it on hold, going back to his SP.

 

Of course he ended up on the internet instead. Found Yuuri tagged in a picture with common (who was that?) friend, closed the tab. Then re-opened. Searched frantically for the photo. Took the link to Yuuri’s Instagram. No posts in months. Pouted. Wanted to close it. Pressed follow before he did so. Put the4 phone away and pouted again. This was ridiculous. Is this what Viktor Nikiforov has come to? He was not some sort of damsel seduced and abandoned by some magnificent playboy. And if he were, he was like the best fucking damsel Katsuki could ever hope for and Yuuri was a jerkish seducer for leaving without a word.

...well, he might as well use that.

 

Yakov asked him what even was the theme in these - no doubt, impressive - routines. He said they were about ‘muses’.

 

He trained ruthlessly, working and perfecting his routines. They gave him the chance to dissociate from his own life. He threw himself into their state of mind, feeling and exposing them to the core. He could be someone else entirely and filled with things too far from his reach instead of being himself and empty.

 

He looked spectacular - and he was destroying himself.

The season was starting and finally news of Yuuri popped up - ‘on a break’. He wondered if it was true or just a cover. The Japanese man being all of a sudden more present on social media with proof of his trips denied that, but he didn’t look too happy. 

 

He also still didn’t fucking contact Viktor. He was following him, damn it. Viktor followed like 3 people. Normally, he would be tagged in things for him to see - he didn’t follow. He even commented on one of the photos, with emoji and all… Did he just not check the comments or was he a jerk? 

The seducer in the story was becoming more and more contoured and alive - and astounding - in Viktor’s performances and it was not something Yakov or anyone else would question. Viktor was just an impressive performer. 

 

***

 

All in all, he didn't have extraordinary funds for travelling. But he guessed he'd go on a small budget. But he couldn't back down now, even if it meant pulverizing all of his economies. He'd put his family at rest about his state of mind and he could post pictures on instagram now and then for the general public, keep up a wholesome image. 

He kept in touch with Pitchit. His friend was doing great with Celestino, unlike Yuuri had done. He'd be in the finale soon. The first from Taiwan to. Pitchit was making history just like that. Good for him. ...unlike Yuuri... 

Yuuri was posting pictures of tourist attractions, but would go looking for local rinks with much more interest. He'd make economies on food money to afford renting skates with blunt blades for a few hours, when he got the chance. Sometimes people recognized him and tagged him in pictures. Tabloids picked them up and talked about how Katsuki Yuuri was not slacking off even if taking a break. Yuuri was hyperventilating while reading them - all seemed to be hinting at Yuuri already making a plan for the next season. (None the case). But he was biding his time. Trying to avoid most of them. Trying to avoid any decision. 

The GPF was closing in. Yuuri was in Portugal. Pitchit was urging him to come see him in the finale, in Barcelona (he was close by! he could!). Yuuri was not enthusiastic about the idea. He prolonged the waiting for a confirmation. Until he felt like a jerk. He was being petty in not wanting to be near the official rink.

Yuuri hoped for the best. And Pitchit tried his best, too. He was good, but his opponents were extraordinary. There was of course Viktor. Yuuri knew for sure he wasn't the only one who couldn't look away and almost wailed in indignation when it had come to a stop. Yuri Plisetsky was also quite something. Powerful. Bold. Only lacking in feeling somehow - something which would definitely keep him behind of Viktor still. His theme was Agape, but Agape was barely present in it. The choreography was very good, though - Viktor’s creation, too - and the debutant’s technique was so much better than what Yuuri’s had been last season. 

Otabek Altin was a totally new presence. He seemed powerful and bold, too, but in a more calculated, paced way than Yuri’s. Then there was JJ, who got better and better throughout the season. And Yuuri wondered. Which one of those last three will take HIS place? When Viktor will be gone, too, and someone else will follow on top, will any will be left for Yuuri in the skating world? He could already feel it drifting away from him. That passion. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could hold on. If he wouldn’t come back immediately, it will all be over for him - but with no motivation, no prospects... 

***

Viktor finished his performance, the resulting points just a bit under his best score, per total, but then again, Viktor’s best was the best in history - not necessarily attainable every single time. JJ had yet to perform, having come first in SP, Viktor right under him, at the distance of barely a point. But Viktor did not worry. He had made all calculations. JJ’s best performance couldn’t get him gold. He knew it, Yakov knew it too. Yuri wouldn’t be so lucky as to avoid the bronze at this point, though.

"Katsuki Yuuri?" he exclaimed, putting himself on check right away as he realized just how out of place his unexplainable enthusiasm must have looked.

The reaction he received from the Japanese man was lukewarm at best. He said, "Viktor?" in a voice quite devoid of emotion, with an expression that suggested he did not quite see the point in Viktor addressing him.

The thought that Katsuki Yuuri hadn't given him much of a thought since that day did not occur to him before. He realized with a sinking feeling how Viktor Nikiforov and his world of skating could be left behind quite easily. He envied Yuuri for that, honestly. He had the insane impulse to catch the younger man by the shoulders and plead to share how he managed to make that work. But he didn't do such a thing, of course. He did engage in small talk, however. After all, Katsuki Yuuri had been the last real thing he remembered. He felt the need to hold on, even if it was just an illusion he himself had constructed.

"Haven't seen you since last year's GPF banquet - how come you are here this year?" Bad choice of question. Bad choice of wording. But he kept that stupidly charming smile on his face and played it cool.

Katsuki Yuuri took it in as well as expected - with a grimace, looking away. "I came to support my friend, Phichit," he replied nonetheless. No mention of the banquet. 

Viktor wondered briefly which of them was Phichit. He could also tell Yuuri guessed that was happening. He gave it up, clearing his throat awkwardly. "Have you only taken a break, then, or are you really retiring?" he tried to ask quite casually, not showing any sign he had clinged to the momentary presence of his in Viktor's time like to dear life during these past months - to the image of him, the idea of him.

To this, Yuuri showed signs of a distressed, hopeless wistfulness that has Viktor's heart hammering in his chest with a touch of hope, although the context made him feel guilty about it. He knew even before Yuuri opened his mouth that some complications would be mentioned, but that he'd yearn to be back on ice.

"It's... complicated," Yuuri summarised with a sheepish smile, rubbing the back of his head.

"I AM thinking of retirement," Viktor added a bit of information no one asked for. He talked in a lower tone, as if quite afraid to be heard until he'd really make up his mind. 

Viktor could see Yuuri go 'oh' as in a disappointing surprise, immediately followed by an 'oh' of someone who could not really relate to the achievements with which Viktor would get to retire - Yuuri's came with 'not much of a chance for else', Viktor's with 'probably should but I'm still too good and too admired'. 

Awkward silence ensued. Viktor knew he was doing a terrible job and could not drag this out any longer, but he was quite desperate. 

"Hey, things will probably go wild quite soon," in which he knew Yuuri detected the promise of interviews after another win, "but would you like to get some coffee after?" He didn't know how Yuuri would take that, but given how this was going what else could he propose for?

Viktor saw him look confused in response, a bit conflicted, but not really too enthusiastic at the idea. "I could not just leave Phichit alone," he shrugged eventually. 

"Right," Viktor nodded shortly, managing not to look bitter about it. Of course. Pitchit. The reason Yuuri ended up in Viktor's way again, only to be the same who'd take him away too.Viktor got the feeling he'd be quite bitter for a while at the thought of the other man although he was sure Phichit didn't deserve it. He wouldn't extend the invitation to Pitchit too either because he had a feeling this whole situation had yet to reach its peak of awkwardness. 

He resisted the urge to make himself sound ultimately desperate by enquiring where Yuuri would go after today, too. He prepared to say his goodbyes and bow out of this.

"Oh, of course he can get coffee, yes! I really want to rest before the banquet anyway, really," the spoken-of Pitchit, no doubt, appeared. Viktor would forever recall him endearingly, actually, he was sure of it.

"I mean, I don't mind resting with you-"

"No, YOU don't even need the rest!" (Viktor was glad he wasn't the only one with bad wording issues). "I mean, you are traveling, you should see more of Barcelona. You should go out, not babysit me - that's Ciao Ciao's job!" Then, turning back to Viktor, "Yeah, he can go out later. Here, add your number in his phone," he handed Viktor a phone covered in poodles. By Yuuri's reaction, it was his - Phichit had pocketed him. Viktor really liked Phichit, after all. And he liked the phone cover, too, although a bit worn out. 

"Call me," Viktor winked, handing it back to Yuuri himself, Yakov waving his fist angrily in the background, calling for him to 'come already' as they were starting the ceremony. Viktor flashed the two an apologetic smile as he turned to his coach, feeling hopeful about something he didn't know what to expect from. 

Yuuri seemed to be at an impasse. Viktor was unknowingly at the worst impasse, too. He guessed all he wanted was be in the company of someone he knew understood. 

***

Yuuri watched Viktor disappear out of their sight, before turning to his friend in half dismay, half bewilderment, “This is such a bad idea, Phichit. Why would you push me into this? That was the most awkward conversation I have ever had. A couple cups of coffee in between us won’t help it!”

“Well,” Phichit started indignantly, “you don’t know that. Maybe it will work out somehow.”

“Work. out. how?” Yuuri spelled out exasperatedly, catching his head in his hands.

“Maybe-,” Phichit hesitated, then sighed, “I mean, you said how this guy was the reason you were motivated to skate. Maybe he can motivate you again,” he shrugged, looking away, at the rink. How could he think that-

Then Phichit eyes widened. 

Yuuri turned his eyes in that direction as well. JJ, who had never failed a jump before and always looked confident, seemed to be recovering from a fall, looking terribly shaken. He continued his routine. Failed again. Didn’t fall again. But terrible job. Yuuri knew what was happening; he’s been there - he felt triggered. He had never liked JJ much. But right then he was clenching his teeth, almost mouthing ‘come on’. Someone like JJ, cracking under the pressure? It didn’t make sense. 

Then a voice cried out to him. And others joined, the whole stadium at some point. JJ went on, joining in, finished his programme, but his result was ruined - he downgraded, not to bronze, but to nothing; he forced a smile still, to his parents, his fiancee, his fans. 

Yuuri was caught into place, struck, as preparation went on, for Viktor to get gold, Yuri Plisetsky: silver; and Otabek Altin: bronze. It was all unbelievable. To have the talent, the support, but- 

 

No, JJ shouldn’t be blamed for it. He knew it. And it wasn’t over for him. He tried his best. And one mistake-

And he knew someone else who deserved a second shot.He looked down at his phone, feverishly. In a few hours, when the madness was over, he’d call Viktor Nikiforov.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I started writing this, it was to see where the narrative would go if I took out the famous video. Needless to say, both Viktor and Yuuri were doing really bad, so I decided to spin that - one lost chance doesn't mean you shouldn't get a second.
> 
> I am not quite sure if I should continue this with what happened after between Viktor and Yuuri? Would that be needed or sahould I leave this semi-open ending??
> 
> PS. The legend I mentioned is the Romanian legend of the Monastery 'Curtea de Arges'.


	2. On a whim

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This wasn't edited, so there may be mistakes sorry. My laptop is broken so I'm writing on my phone, which is not that... resourceful.

Viktor saved the number carefully and was currently debating whether it was wise to add any emoji at this point in time. Yuuri had finally texted - not called - and Viktor inspected his watch pensively with a scowl: less than 2 hours to go until the banquet - Yuuri had taken his time...

Chris looked over his shoulder, watching Viktor change the emoticon next to the name from a sidelook face into a exasperated sigh, but not looking very satisfied about the choice just yet. He was taking his time, truth be told, grudgingly leaving Yuuri on 'read' for a little bit more. He had been looking forward to get a sign of life from Yuuri for quite a while already when Chris showed up asking if he wanted to hang out. He knew Chris wouldn't mind if he'd make a getaway later. But a reason to do so let itself be waited, until about a couple minutes ago.

"Unusual for you to look for the same post-banquet hook up two years in a row."

"Didn't happen," Viktor replied monotonously, sliding back into his messenger. 

Chris looked mildly surprised to hear that bit of information, arching an eyebrow as his attention was back on his own social media feed, "How come? He was grinding on you on the dance floor and next thing I know is the two of you left together. "

"Said 'goodnight' at his door. I was sober, he was not...," Viktor continued in the same monotonous tone, his fingers hovering impatiently above the keyboard, but not touching it, eyes plastered on the apologetic, but not down-turning message from Yuuri.

"Oh, chivalry, I see," Chris smirked, long-winding the 'oh' and the 'see'. "Thinking you'll get lucky this year?"

"Hm," was Viktor's noncommitent and only answer to that, as he typed in: 'Only Aeroflot kept me waiting for as much as you did,' with a serene smiley face to it as an attempt at easing the overall mood. 

Read. Typing. Not typing. Typing. Not typing. Typing. Not typing. Typing. Eventually: 'sorry' - apologetic emoticon. Viktor debated whether to laugh - at himself - or slam his head against the table. 

"Are you going to kill someone or yourself 'cause your expression could mean either?" Chris commented. 

"It's yet to be decided," Viktor pursed his lips, then started typing vigurously.  
'Your friend going to the banquet? '  
'Yeah'  
'First time there so he has yet to realize how it's going to be the dullest evening of his life'  
No response. He continued typing, 'Since you'll be on your own, how about we hang out then?'  
'AREN'T YOU SUPPOSED TO BE THERE?'  
'^^^think I already emphasized it's not something I'm looking forward to'

Silence. Still silence. COME ON.

'Ok.'

"Hey," he called for Chris' attention. "Can you bail me out of the banquet, bullshit some excuse on why I am not there?"

Chris looked up and narrowed his eyes, but there was also a spark of interest in there, "Why don't you just tell Yakov? "

"He'd skin me."

"Won't he skin you tomorrow?"

"He'll be nursing a slight hangover so it'll be the least of his worries," he raised his shoulders slightly. 

"Yakov doesn't normally drink at these events, though," Chris raised his eyebrows. 

"He'll feel like it when he hears I'm not there and not answering his messages either."

"You're taking your coach to the grave, Nikiforov. "

"He's just too easily excitable, really."

"Oh boy," Chris sat up, stretching lazily. "I'll leave you to it then. You need anything? Knives and shovel? Lube and condoms?"

"I think none tonight. " 

"Don't know what you have in mind, but I'm expecting for my bullshitting services to be paid in information, of course."

"Deal," he nodded, bumping fists. Then Chris left, Viktor wondering if coffee would still work as an idea.

\---  
"You know he was following you on Insta? You have comments from him on traveling pics - also you didn't answer, that is rude."

"What?" Yuuri winced, his phone tightly in his hands, waiting for a 'time and place'.

"He's insistent - it's fishy. I had to investigate."

"Phichit!"

"Really, he's pining! Skipping the banquet now?"

"He's just bored..."

"I don't know about that - are you sure you never talked before?"

Yuuri thought it wise and harmless to keep the 'commemorative photo' awkwardness to himself. "I was a lone wolf throughout last year's competition, you know that."

"And the banquet?"

"I mused gloomily in a corner over multiple - probably too many - champagne flutes," Yuuri sighed admittedly. 

Pichit glowed with excitement at that piece of information, however, "How drunk did you get more exactly?"

"Badly," Yuuri pouted, but snapped, eyes widened, as Pichit's grin grew micheviously. "Nononono," he shook his raised hand frantically, "I woke up in my room, fully clothed" (except the tie was around his head instead of neck, but that was not relevant).

"How did you get to your room?"

"Crawling, I guess."

"You guess?" Phichit asked with a presumptive intonation. Yuuri glared at him.  
"Or Ciao Ciao brought me," he shrugged. 

"Sure nothing happened in between?"

Not really. "Yes!" Not at all.

"Things go bad, message me with 'code red' - no, no, just 'red'. I'll pretend I'm calling you from Japan with an emergency. Change my name in your contacts to 'dad'. Or 'mum'. I could do a convincing mum voice."

"Phichit!"

\----  
Viktor was kind of expecting Yuuri to arrive late to their meeting spot in the lobby, too, which was worrying, as he had to look out for Yakov and Yuri, too - he'd have a lot to explain if they saw him not in the least dressed up for a banquet. But Yuuri was there ten minutes early, just like Viktor, and he thought it better if they left right away.

"Why the hurry?"

"Well, cafes might be closing quite soon, since we ended up leaving so late," he emphasized the 'so' mercilessly and saw Yuuri gulping awkwardly. "Also," he added for good humor and a change of subject, "didn't want to run into my coach. I didn't tell him I wasn't going to the banquet."

"Oh, I left him a message through Chris," he waved a hand dismissively in response to Yuuri's worried expression. He at least hoped Chris would make up a good one. "Besides, Yakov is very understanding," he added yet another lie for the good going of the evening. 

"So, you have any idea about where we're going? Viktor-" he turned to Viktor, who had stopped abruptly in the spot, looking thoughtful, one hand grasping at his other elbow, the other's index tapping his lower lip. 

"Right," Viktor snapped out of it casually, "let's take that taxi to the centre," he was already waving his arm, moving towards the car, Yuuri trying to catch up with him.

\----  
After ten minutes shared together, the time it took for them to get to the city centre, Yuuri already catalogued Viktor as the strangest person he had ever met, with his tendency to jump from one thought to another, to change intonations constantly and his constant energetic gesticulations. Some people have called him extravagant before -Yuuri thought it was an understatement. But he was definitely something captivating. Just like with his performances, he had Yuuri at a loss in guessing what will come next.

He had signaled the driver abruptly that they arrived, in the middle of a sentence with Yuuri that he never eventually finished. Next thing he knew, he had been dragged across the street and was seated comfortably in a cozy cafe, a pretty waiter noticing them apologetically that it will only be open for half an hour more. Viktor nodded understandingly, smiling most charmingly, asked Yuuri whether tea wouldn't be better at that time of day before forwarding that request to the flustered waiter, then turned to Yuuri as she left with the same buzzing energy that only made Yuuri dizzy. 

"Well," he sighed affectedly, "it's nice to slow down and relax now and then." Yuuri almost looked back in disbelief - it didn't look at all like Viktor ever truly slowed down. "-although the season had really just began so there's that," he followed energetically right away on a thought seemingly finished, then jumped right away to "So are you not coming back at all for this season?"

It took a couple beats for Yuuri to realize it was his cue to talk, "Oh, I hardly could, considering I haven't worked on anything new for competition."

The waiter came with the tea, but Viktor didn't look back up at her, although he did say a 'thank you' before she retreated. 

"I've seen clips of you practising, though," then added to Yuuri's questioning look, "-in this article while reading through the ISU forums - I think fans filmed and tagged you." He added a couple more sugar cubes than Yuuri would've considered alright to his tea as he talked.

"Oh, I-," Yuuri scratched the back of his head sheepishly. "I guess it's still too tempting, visiting ice rinks, although I'm supposedly 'away' from skating. There are also a lot of new interesting routines this year that I've tried to copy," he answered honestly, his face going gradually redder, now holding his cup in both hands in the absence of anything else to do with them.

"Tried anything of mine?" Viktor inquired right away, leaning forward with a strange glint in his eye.

Yuuri had the initial instinct to lean further back in his soft chair. "Well," - I copy yours every year - "I did, yes, I mean they are really interesting... uh, although when it comes to Eros more specifically, well that one is-, um, seemed weird trying it in crowded places."

Viktor had that thoughtful expression again and Yuuri was part excited, part scared of what was going to come out of that. 

"Let's go to the rink so you can try it freely then," he proposed, all enthusiasm and smiles, "I can tell the security guy overnight I really need to check on something for the gala. There will be no one watching you now."

'It's going to be YOU - of all people - watching me,' Yuuri's mind screamed, his heart beating scaredly in his chest. "How will you explain bringing me?" was what he said out loud.

"I really need two people to get this done," Viktor replied with amusing but very believable mock sincerity, then looked down at the watch on his wrist. "I'll go get the check - they're closing soon" and he disappeared before Yuuri could efen have a chance to protest. 

As soon as he was gone and his radiating optimism with him, Yuuri felt anxiety wash over him in increasing waves and had the urge to scream his lungs out and possibly melt into that very chair. No, he couldn't possibly leave that chair again. He felt like he would hit or bite anyone who'd try to remove him from there. Oh, for the love of whatever gods there were, it was one thing to sit across from a goofy, casually dressed Viktor with his vibrating flippant personality, just having the chance to evaluate him, but it was a whole other thing to be on the rink with the legend Nikiforov evaluating Yuuri and his skating - on Viktor's own routines. 

Yuuri has been copying Viktor's routines (or in the beginning tried to) ever since he had first discovered him. But it has always been done with the sinking feeling somewhere in the back of his mind that given the slightest chance that Viktor would ever see that travesty, he'd ask to be immediately lowered in his grave.

But Viktor then came back with his energy and smiles and he stretched a hand towards Yuuri and Yuuri found himself unable to either bite or hit that one hand. His hand was so very warm and Yuuri held on to it gladly when they were out in the winter air, since Viktor didn't attempt to take it back either. 

Viktor smiled charmingly throughout the security guard's suspicious starring off, while Yuuri sweated nervously next to him, definitely not looking the innocent part just as well, but he eventually waved them in with the mandatory comments about how he wasn't normally allowed to do this, they shouldn't stay long, etc. Viktor nodded patiently and understandingly through it all and they were eventually left alone.

They grabbed some skates and started putting them on. Yuuri looked over at Viktor, his hair fallen over his face, all concentrated on tying his laces tightly. 

Well, if he'd make a total fool of himself soon enough anyway, so he might as well get the courage to-

“Viktor?"

"Hm?" Viktor looked up, his hair falling back in its place most armoniously. He had a strange calmness about himself here, close to the ice, like this was where his true peace laid. 

"I've been wondering- Did you arrange your routines this year as opposing the previous one?” Paying special attention to Viktor's work, he liked to analyse the themes with the complexity Viktor always put into his routines. This seemed like one chance in a lifetime to discuss routines with Viktor as if they were equals.

“What do you mean?” Viktor asked, looking confused, but curious, enough of an invitation for Yuuri to continue:

“Your pieces last year showed longing for love. This year, it’s about casting love away. The playboy who only seduces and leaves. The artist who casts love away in the detriment of his art. ”

“Oh, but they are actually a continuation from last year,” with the intonation of someone who loved to have the chance to surprise. 

“But last year the character was a more naive person, longing for, but not really knowing love. How does he end up as a careless seducer whose craft is more important than love?” Yuuri discussed, going full skating-geek.

“You see, that misunderstanding may happen because of me. I played the seducer, but he isn’t the focus of the story, whose story I then follow in the free skate.”

“But-," Yuuri stood then deadpanned for a moment, thinking - but then it hit him, “The abandoned woman! She’s the young naive person in Stammi vicino! And when she puts her hopes in someone, they leave. So she puts that love in her work.” That changed everything!

“More or less, yes!” Viktor clapped his hands once in approvement, grinning widely.

“That’s- that’s so great. It must be so more exciting, getting involved in all the stages of the routines.”

“You wouldn’t normally?”

“Well, not really, I-,” he sat up, quitened by the sight of the official rink, ISU's enormous emblem visible beneath the ice layers, in the very middle of the rink. He did not hold the best of memories from the last time he's looked over at a similar scenery. It was displeasing, triggering, but there was no crowd, no judges, no coach counting on him to not have been a waste of his time and energy. Only Viktor Nikiforov, which was a bit funny. He felt like he was in a wild daydream of his own, an amazing skating arena for him alone and his idol there with him, casually talking routines. After all, wasn't this what he had wanted, just be on the same ice as Viktor? Maybe if he didn't consider this seriously, it would be easier to digest. Maybe if he just didn't think of this as more than Viktor doing something ridiculous on a boring day, talking to a random, fresher face, it wouldn't matter tomorrow if he looked like a fool today.

"You'll stay on the other side of the rink for the whole night?" Viktor's voice brought him back to his senses. He was already gliding effortlessly across the ice, just warming up. 

"No, not the whole night, the guard would kick me out from here too, eventually, " Yuuri realised - mortified and too late - that he had actually said that out loud. 

But Viktor smiled to that, easing his mind. And he stepped on the ice, feeling out of place, but truly home, just stretching and spinning with the ice under him for a while.

"So what do you want to try?" Viktor asked. "Are you up for Eros here?"

Yuuri glided in a circle, trying to find the right words, "I don't think I will be any good in... presentation."

"Just get yourself in that mindset - make it fit you."

"Get in the mindset of seducing someone?"

"Look," he skated to the edge of the rink, "I'll stay right here. Seduce me."

"Uh..."

"Sorry, I'm all you've got right now," he laughed, probably misinterpreting his reaction. 

"Nononono," Yuuri waved his hand apologetically. "I mean-" He breathed in. Well, Viktor was right. He had to get in character. He could still be the more naive character. It had fitted him in Stammi vicino. He could take off from then. He could consider Viktor the playboy then. And the young girl? She gets caught in the game. She brings her own. The playboy leaves, but not with his whole heart. She lets him go, waves him off, knowing she had him, he'll come back - and she'll just go off and do her own thing in the mean time.

"Do you have the music?" Yuuri felt like he was insane - or at least drunk - doing this. 

"Sure," Viktor seemed taken aback by Yuuri sudden courage (he wondered momentarily if he dared Yuuri expecting him to back down, but put that thought away), but he complied. He took out his phone. The echo would help, amplify the sound.

The routine, Yuuri knew by heart and it had a step sequence that was strangely very compatible with him. He would definitely downgrade the technical difficulty a lot, but it was better than falling in front of Viktor. 

He took his starting position. Looked back at Viktor. Watching him. Without his glasses, he looked like in a daze. Yes, this was a daydream. A very silly unrealistic daydream. And he was the young girl getting caught in it. The music started and his attention drifted from the present moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh well, if you think something has gone right or wrong here, comment. Also if you think there's anything that SHOULD go on.


	3. Which way now

Yuuri came to a stop, his heart beating frantically as he struggled to measure his breathing.  His body hurt and burned and shook with both exhaustion and excitement. It had been a while; he must have started to forget it: the moment the thrill and passion are greater than the fear - the kind of life on ice that made the pain worth it. 

 

He looked around the weakly lit rink, enjoying the quiet, his heavy breaths the only sign of life. He was almost surprised to find the other figure and to find himself stopped less than 3 meters from the rink edge, in the direct line of sight of Viktor Nikiforov. 

 

He narrowed his eyes, not able to understand Viktor's expression without his glasses, and skated towards him. Viktor’s brows were furrowed, an almost severe line cutting where they met - down to where his nose began - an expression of objective analysis. The playlist had gone on and was now starting on a different tone - of innocence and humility. Yuuri recognised Yuri's short program.  He had time only to wonder at Viktor keeping and to connect it to the choreography having been Viktor's creation,  before the change also took the other man out of his reverie and he paused his phone,  looking back at Yuuri.

  
  


"That was different." That would normally be the code  for 'I have nothing actually good to say and I don't know how to break that to you', but there was a glint of something uncommon in the way Viktor said it, in an assertive,  but questioning manner, not as if he was answering Yuuri, but asking for an explanation on what he had seen, too. 

 

"You didn't really copy me," he went on almost right away,  in the same uncommon - truly peculiar - manner.  Yuuri wasn't sure at this point if the questioning side of it was directed at Yuuri or whether he was just half addressing Yuuri while having that one-sided conversation with himself. The thoughtful - blank eyed - expression that followed made Yuuri opt for the first. Then his eyes focused on Yuuri suddenly,  either remembering to pay attention to him or he might have become relevant in his own personal discussion. 

 

"Did you actually immediately take note of what I told you earlier and incorporated it in - adapted your performance to it?" he finally asked Yuuri. He scratched his chin with a smirk. Yes, it sounded like it was just another piece within Viktor's own conversation.  

 

Yuuri scratched the back of his head, feeling his skin heating up - he hadn't expected it to be that obvious that he had cheated in copying the very concept of Eros. But shifting to the mindset of the more innocent maid instead of the coy seducer must have realy messed up the entire concept of ruthless seduction, the actual ingredient that made Eros the enthangling hypnosis for both the casual and expert watcher. Yuuri must've looked like a drop of Eros mixed in a gallon of water. He looked at Viktor almost apologetic,  not sure what to say.

 

"I liked it," Viktor added, though, with a warm smile.  And he seemed sincere, making Yuuri wonder if he was just a good liar. 

 

"It was far from your level, of course, " Yuuri laughed forcefully,  scratching his arm awkwardly.  "And I downgraded the jumps a lot, too."

 

"Oh, I expected that. You've been out of serious practice for too long," Viktor nodded understandingly, tapping his chin. "It would've been unnecessary to risk disrupting the flow of the routine due to technicality. But I'm not here to grade your jumps," Viktor sort of reassured him, but it sounded as if he was there to otherwise grade him,  still. "The step sequence-," he started, but didn’t get to finish.

 

They both turned their heads to the corridor, to the sounds of approaching footsteps,  then back at each other.  

 

"I think we're being thrown out from yet another location," Viktor noted and Yuuri felt the upcoming dismissal coming at him. He had no idea what Viktor had expected to see by basically convincing him to end up trying to copy his routine, but Yuuri was sure that this hadn't been it. Whatever the reason for that sudden interest - even if just plain boredom - it was over.

 

"Bars," Viktor added randomly, while signaling the guard they'd be out soon.

 

"What?" Yuuri narrowed his eyes again at him - oh, still foggy, where were his glasses? - rather confused as he took off his skates.

 

"Bars are not ridiculously restrictive about closing times. Bars are kind," Viktor clarified serenely - or attempted to - while handing Yuuri his glasses back.

 

"You want to go to a bar?" Yuuri verified his assumption.

 

"A drink or two would be nice, I think?" he put that as a question and Yuuri realized it was a sort of invitation waiting for his answer.  He was once again distracted by the motions of Viktor's hair who was taking off his skates. 

 

"Um, I don't normally drink much  - or I try not to," Yuuri replied eventually. Okay, so Viktor was not yet bored of having company. But drinking usually didn't turn out right for Yuuri.  He hoped Viktor hadn't noticed the drunkard in the corner table last year.

 

"Oh, no more than a couple of drinks for me, too, no worries. It's in full season and also avoiding to get kicked out might be put in danger by repeating last year's banquet night," Viktor mused casually.

 

God no. "What?" 

 

"What?"

 

\---

 

"Oh, nothing extreme.  Some dancing - a few of us, like Chris and Yuri Plisetsky. Did well to that usually stiff gathering, really," Viktor explained in the closest he could get to 'frantically', feeling quite uneasy and helpless in the face of Yuuri's obvious dismay. He was going for 'reassuring' words, but he was not sure it worked for either of them.

 

They were out on the street now, filling the air before them with thick vapours as they talked.

 

"Yuri Plisetsky?" Yuuri repeated in a weak voice.

 

"Well, the two of you had a dance off of sorts," he explained quickly,  jumping over Yuuri's stupefied 'd-dance...off?'. "-And then Chris and I joined in for a while. But the coaches eventually had us end it, because they're boring like that. And yeah, I think we went back to our rooms, shortly after. That's all." Given the new circumstances,  Viktor thought it safe to leave the stripping poll out of this.

 

-so much for their previous history. 

 

For a moment there, Viktor had thought he needed to sit down, too, let the realization sink in, but then he took a look at Yuuri who seemed to take it even worse and he had to breathe in and leave it aside for then. 

 

"Okay, let's just go, then," he went in a different direction all of a sudden,  "I know a place uptown-"

 

"Um, no, I don't think I want to drink anything tonight actually," Yuuri said, stuck in the place instead of tailing after Viktor like before.

 

Viktor stopped, too, not knowing what to do next. He couldn't get at all what went in Yuuri's mind right then. He, for one, was really confused.  His perception of this whole apparent misunderstanding was shifting by the second, but a few things were clear. Yuuri hadn't remembered him after the banquet.  He never thought of him after the banquet,  in conclusion,  either.  Viktor's lamentations have been all unjustified. Yuuri's lukewarm reaction to Viktor trying to 'catch up', justified. 

 

"Yuuri, do you want to go back at the hotel on foot, then? It's about half an hour of walking," Viktor asked finally, not having any other ideas left.

 

Yuuri just nodded, and Viktor tilted his head in the same direction. Yuuri finally followed and they walked in silence.

 

Viktor could watch him freely now, Yuuri's eyes ahead, his thoughts obviously elsewhere. And Viktor could just think of and analyze Yuuri. The man on and off the ice.

 

Viktor's introducing expression in Eros was an invitation. He scoots the room and sees something he likes. He goes 'oh, look at that' and goes on into a dance that has him rolling around his target, calling to them, insisting,  insisting, catching them victoriously and then mercilessly letting go. It was filled with confidence and power and entitlement and carelessness. And Yuuri...

 

He was sure that if Yuuri had been closer, he'd have seen horror when he began his routine - he was that much caught in and he had for a short time thought Yuuri knew very well what he was doing.  He had turned to Viktor and smiled and Viktor had unconsciously leaned in closer over the railing, his hands grasping them tightly. 'Oh, you right there, I know why you're watching me. Two can play this game,' it said. And the dance began. Yuuri wasn't chasing, wasn't playing an offensive - he was encouraging, but keeping them at bay. And when the moment to catch comes, he catches, too, as the script has it, then pushes away with confidence - but not the kind that says ‘another one down’, but as if they would be back at his feet and he knows it. 

 

While he was caught in the performance,  Viktor had been convinced that this was Yuuri catching on with Viktor's scooting around him, that he knew exactly why Viktor was coming back to him. But then when Yuuri stopped, he remembered their talk before and the maid - either that's what Yuuri did or he was hiding behind it. Either way, Viktor was still surprised and impressed. (After the reveal about the banquet,  it was clear which one - Viktor was still impressed :Yuuri had made him believe his art had been reality).

 

The step sequence,  he had expected to look great - after all, Viktor had designed it after Yuuri's style, but right then and there, Viktor had to admit it flowed better with Yuuri...

 

The jumps were his weak point, he knew, and have been downgraded. But the same flow... He jumped and landed with determination that showed practice and naturalness that showed talent.

 

But then-

 

In the videos from the previous year, Viktor could see the clear hesitation when a jump approached.The second thoughts destroyed his jumps and with that disrupted his flow. Judges don't like hesitation.  Hesitation is human and they want to see just art, not humanity.  Viktor was confident that had a judge seen Yuuri tonight, they'd want to see him again, too - they’d want to see more of what he could be capable of, like him.

 

And there was another thing Viktor still was confident in. So, Yuuri was not assertive,  he was mostly not brave with his words, not talkative,  not forward. He was warm, though, and transparent in expressions and mannerism. And in spite of everything, Viktor knew to recognize someone who looked at him with interest.  Viktor knew he could charm him if he tried. After all, Viktor was the foolish playboy who came back to Yuuri after he already knew the danger of it, apparently. 

 

But-

 

As they walked back slowly in and through the hotel, Viktor saw two courses of action ahead of him. One would invalidate the other in Yuuri's eyes. He could invite Yuuri to his room and help himself or he could wave a  'we'll see eachother again' with the promise of helping Yuuri. Were he to go by the first,  Yuuri would no longer trust in his appreciation for his skating. If he would choose skating, any instance of seduction would instigate the suspicion that it's been always case one. 

 

"Yuuri?" Viktor called him when they reached the lift. 

 

"Uh?" Yuuri looked back almost surprised,  like he hadn't expected Viktor to talk again tonight - or ever, for that matter.  

 

"I forgot,  there was also something you asked me that night," he said coyly, a little smirk playing at the corner of his mouth.  

 

Yuuri stilled in horror, expectantly.

 

"Yeah, I've got witnesses if you want to check. You said your family owned and onsen and invited me to visit," he continued with the same smile - Yuuri looked like that was the last thing that he expected to hear. "Does the invitation stand? I know I could use a vacation when the season ends."

 

"I mean- if you want to... I mean it's not like... Of course anyone can... -for tourists, after all.."

 

Viktor nodded vigorously through Yuuri's mumbling and, as they reached the younger man's floor, and Yuuri mumbled goodbyes and goodnights in addition, scrambling to the doors, Victor added:

 

"And Yuuri-," he started sweetly,  "You asked me a second thing - something - much - more - committing," he advanced each time a step forward as Yuuri took them back. 

 

"What?"

 

"Oh, we'll see where that goes when I visit - I'll text you the date," he said in an end-of-discussion manner with a grin, waving his hand widely and lovingly at Yuuri as the elevator doors closed in the face of the stupefied Japanese man. Once closed, Viktor fell back against the elevator's wall, laughing. Okay,  so he may have been a bit too extra. A bit cruel, too, but he was frustrated enough to - and petty enough - to consider that as even for him.

 

He took out his phone, changed the emoticon next to Yuuri’s name to a devilish face, then slided into Chris’ messenger.

 

_ I'm home, mom. _

 

**And I’m still at my boring work function, son.**

 

**Also, wow, if I knew I was sending you off with reliable people who bring you home early and don't even get you drunk enough to make your texting unreadable,  I would've never let you out that door.**

 

_ How’s Yakov going? _

 

**-hard on champagne, if you ask me. He is definitely going to skin you and nail you on a cross, leaving your intestines out for the crows to feed on as life leaves your body.**

 

_ That very graphic interpretation makes me very curious about the magnitude of the reaction itself.  _

 

**Oh, no, I was paraphrasing part of what he actually said, in fact.**

 

_ Just 'a part of'? _

 

**Some were just incoherent insults. And I missed about half of the plans because at that point he was basically growling.**

 

_ Now, you're just - _

 

**I wish Yakov would've left room for improvisation or exaggeration, but nope.**

 

**Hope it was worth it.**

 

_ Well… it was, although you won’t like what you’re going to hear. _

 

\---

 

Next time Eros was performed - at the Nationals - everyone could tell: it was different. As he watched the replay of it, Viktor was finally convinced himself, too, that he was a seducer, not just playing himself to be one. Because now he knew that, indeed, he was, and that Yuuri was watching him. The game has began and it was more complicated than the plain works of seduction.  

 

His free skate had been upgraded too. And he wondered if they could see that the artist was no longer throwing himself to die, but to be reborn.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Damn, I'm spending way too much time on this story when I have other WIPs as well. So, next update shouldn't come THIS soon, sorry.
> 
> You may wonder why we didn't get what Yuuri was thinking back then. Well, I've been there, with my writer analysis, and you wouldn't want to go on that lamenting overthinking world. But you know Yuuri and you probably guess. Also, having to add Viktor's POV and looking back on Yuuri's performance and his conclusions was way more important. 
> 
> Anyway... thoughts? misunderstandings? expectations?


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made some explanations regarding the practicability of my plot in the ending notes, if there are any confusions.

Viktor hadn't supposed that when he told Yuuri 'I'll contact you', that it would lead to absolute silence from the Japanese skater unless Viktor said anything. He wasn't sure whether that was Yuuri taking Viktor's words too literally or he simply didn't really care to give a sign of life, which quite kept Viktor from making that move himself.  His pride in the matter succumbed early, as he recalled Yuuri's disposition.  But for that very same reason, he restrained himself, because what if he came across as too forward and insisting and scared him away.

 

He was spending quite some time staring angrily at his phone or directing his complaints and lamentations towards Chris, who was either too patient, or he was really glad to be in the position of making fun of Viktor. Yakov was having none of it. He would confiscate Viktor's phone at the beginning of practice.  But that made Viktor more unfocused.  He would return Viktor his phone. He would curse his life choices. But Viktor remained a pouting mess, no matter the measures applied.

 

"Vitya, I want you to focus. You may not take the Nationals seriously,  but it's an important title to sustain."

 

"Of course,  Yakov. Go talk to Yuri and Georgi. I need to get changed," he went away, not very convincingly optimistic. 

 

His phone buzzed twice as he headed to the changing room. As usual,  Chris was wishing him 'goodluck'. 

 

Yuuri,  too. Viktor stopped in his track, suddenly smiling genuinely. He knew he didn't have much time, but he could multitask.

 

_ Thanks. What have you been up to? _ he typed in, then grasped the phone between his lips - yikes, the strange gagging sensation - as he took off his tracksuit.  The phone buzzed again. 

 

**I'm back to Japan. Been busy.**

 

Well, very short, very succinct message.  He wanted to ask 'busy with what?!' but he didn't want to sound rude. But the fact that he was back to Japan soon caught his attention more. Did he drop his trip?

 

He put on his pants, wrote in  _ how come you're already back in Japan? _ , then started working on his shirt. And he managed to make himself look very presentable and even check his hair and even Yakov managed to come around looking for Viktor, but there was no sign of Yuuri managing to type in a response.  It was making Viktor more irritable - but also concerned - by the minute. 

 

"There are two more in line. You need to head out," Yakov prompted, snatching his phone as he went out the door. But, aside from a muffled sound and a instinctual immediate clenching of his fist, he didn't argue. He knew very well he needed to focus. He had to keep his title. He had to keep up to a certain reputation.  He had a too much lot to fall from how high he had placed himself if he allowed himself to slip. 

 

\---

 

Yuri didn't seem too happy to be standing yet again a step lower than Viktor. But Viktor couldn't feel too sorry for him, knowing Yuri was clearly Russia's figure skating future. Viktor's days were numbered and he had no plans hereafter. Now that was what misfortune really was.

 

Another name for misfortune was 'Yuuri went on ignoring me and my question, too'. There was no reply after his short program and none after the free skate - not even after the ceremony. 

 

Viktor would've been annoyed,  if he weren't twice as much worried. But he restrained himself from double texting in case he might be in fact ignored.

\---

He showered and draped himself on the coach, Makkachin joining him lazily.  He felt strangely tired and it had little to do with the competition earlier that day. He checked his messages and social media one last time, debating whether he could cheat on his season diet for the evening and order some takeout.  

 

**Check this out!** Chris was encouraging with a link to accompany it. He hoped it wasn't a new meme, but ventured to check it out. Let him not be an asshole and ignore a friend's message,  like some others...

 

The link opened an ISU page. At first, only the dates jumped into his visor and he had mistaken them for the Russian Nationals results. He was about to close it, not sure what Chris had thought may be new information for him in there, but as he did so, he took a better look at the title.

 

Wait... That had been going on in the same time frame? But if Chris thought this might concern him, it meant-

 

No way!

 

With remarkably increased enthusiasm,  he scrolled down, checking out the Men's column. And he didn't need to go too far down, fortunately.  Which was fortunate for many reasons.  He was on second place. With a score that, by world standards wasn't much, but it did suffice in the Japanese Nationals. 

 

_ YOU LIED _ , he typed in.

 

**I partially withheld the truth** , was the unexpectedly cheeky reply. Or perhaps just terribly honest, with no intention of cheekiness, if he were to go by the writer's character. Actually, he might have even intended it as apologetic,  with that in mind.

_ So you were actually busy. But you also said you had no coach or routines when we met like.. 2 weeks ago? _

 

**I do have no coach.  And the routines were just some messing around I did while I've been away, but I skated them convincingly enough to score acceptably, I guess. I just tried to look ok and get an acceptable technical score. Nothing remarkable.**

 

_ But why? _

_ And how did you manage without a coach? _

_ It's admirable tbh, but also risky?? _

 

In Viktor’s opinion, it just wasn’t right. It was impressive on its own, thinking of how that Yuuri could pull this off. But Yuuri would’ve deserved a better comeback. He deserved for people to see just how impressive he was. He deserved to be outstanding, not just floating on the surface.

 

**I just did official stuff on my own... also I missed the GP so...**

 

**I guess...**

 

**I TRIED**

 

**It might not work.**

 

_ What? _

 

**...qualifying**

 

Viktor had to give that a thought. What did he mean? Was he talking about World’s? But he needed an adequate technical score in an official ISU competition. Which excluded Nationals. It could be the GP, the Europeans, the Four Continents, then there was Worlds.

 

_ 4CC?? You would qualify now? _

 

**I should, with a National 2nd comeback. Up to three from each country participating can compete. And I have SOME good tes from last year**

 

_ BRB _ , he replied. Probably not the most suitable choice in such a case, but necessary, given the job he had at hand.

 

He looked for the recordings from the Japanese national competition, jumping to Yuuri’s performances. Studying them thoroughly. The costumes were simple, black pants and simple combinations with shirts and accessories. The choreographies were wanting, but Yuuri had performed well. The jumps were built in to be accessible, but enough for a decent technical score. Only one quad in the SP and three in the FS, but he he made triple-double-triple combinations to make up in the final score. 81 for the SP and 173 for the FS. A score for him to ‘make it’ had been his aim and what he could’ve managed on a short time’s planning. But so much was needed to be done to get it to the right level - more like the level Viktor could see Yuuri achieving.

 

Yuuri might be considering getting in touch with his old coach, consult some choreographers on improving the musicality of his routines. He would have costumes done. He would get back into serious training. But still-

 

_ Yuuri _ , he reached out again. He didn’t think Yuuri was the one to do well on or prefer calls, so he went on texting.

 

**Yes?**

 

_ I watched your routines _

 

**Oh, no.. I know it wasn’t anything spectacular. I mean I was just trying to get a decent score and not completely lose the season at that point and I’m not sure if it was a good idea right now. I didn’t get to talk through much with my former coach yet… ugh.. There’s a lot to do yeah**

 

_ Yuuri _

 

**Yeah?**

 

_ Why did you decide not to wait until next season then? _

 

**Idk… I guess I was afraid I’ll lose the motivation?**

 

_ Yuuri _

 

**...it was a mistake wasn’t it?**

 

_ Come to Russia  _

 

**Wait WHAT?**

 

_ Yeah that would be the best way, do it _

 

**To do IT?**

 

_ Yeah, so I can help you _

 

**YOU CANNOT HELP ME YOU HAVE YOUR OWN COMPETITIONS TO WORK OK**

 

**...sorry for the caps. I do appreciate the offer, but I’m not trying to trouble you or anything. I’ll manage**

 

_ Yuuri _

 

**Why do you keep on doing that…?**

 

_ Remember when I said you asked me one more thing at the banquet? _

 

**What does it have to do with this?**

 

_ Well, you asked me to be your coach. _

 

**Oh my god, I’m sorry that was silly, I was drunk and asked that, as if you don’t have more important things to do. I’m so sorry...**

 

_ Well, don’t be, I’m accepting _

 

**YOU CAN’T**

 

_ Why not? _

 

**YOU ARE COMPETING**

 

_ And coaching you also, why not? _

 

**IT WOULD HOLD YOU BACK IT’S INSANE**

 

_ Yuuri didn’t you notice I like a challenge? And I didn’t have a serious one for a long time. And my coach would help. I already talked to him.  _

 

Another lie dropped on Yakov, but well… He would convince Yakov by the time Yuuri arrived. Yakov would be grouchy, but it wouldn’t be hard to make Yuuri understand that was just how Yakov worked anyway. 

 

His head was already buzzing with ideas. Colors for costumes. Moves and transitions replacements that would make the routines spark. He needed to do this, possibly just as much as Yuuri himself would benefit from it.

 

_ Don’t you back out on this Yuuri. It’s like the traditional way to marriage proposals. If you’re the one making the proposal, only the one accepting it has the right to back out. The other way around is just disgraceful, dishonorable! _

 

**...are you guilt tripping me into sabotaging YOUR career?**

 

_ See, this is the pessimistic outlook I must work to change, as your coach  _

**...**

 

_ COME ON YUURI _

 

_ Only one brave move won’t do to convince not only the skating world, but yourself too that you can surprise _

 

**...I can’t surprise**

 

_ You surprised ME _

 

**I did nothing impressive…**

 

_ Wow, so much to work on right there as your coach and you’re wasting all of this time _

 

**...**

 

**Ok, we’ll consider this?**

 

_ Ok I’m buying the plane ticket brb _

 

**VIKTOR**

 

He put his phone away cruelly, refusing to address anymore protests from Yuuri - for both his and Yuuri’s good. Clearly, Yuuri hesitated because he thought it would inconvenience Viktor. That, however, Viktor could have a say in.

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, so I did research how exactly qualifications work. Every bit on that when it comes to Yuuri's possibilities here are quite accurate. The Japanese skating federation makes the decisions on which of their skaters go to 4 Continents. He needs to have achieved a certain tes score at an international event during the current or previous season to be considered. And yeah, I know he bombed the final, but he must have had some good scores throughout the GP in order to make it there.   
> I had him make that official comeback for the season in order to be considered. There were no other notable Japanese skaters mentioned in the YOI universe on international level, so he can believably represent them.   
> Yuuri needs a not necessarily unbelievable technical score at 4 Continents to qualify to Worlds now, but he needs to be the best of Japan at that and accomplish something above their qualification requirements at that, and the base ones are nothing extraordinary. 
> 
> And yes, it is ok for a skater to present himself without a coach. It has been done. But you know, it's CONVENIENT to have one.


End file.
